


these untold truths

by TheDragon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Getting Together, M/M, Magic Revealed, Temporary Character Death, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 00:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19283911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDragon/pseuds/TheDragon
Summary: When you turn around, the first thing you see is Merlin with his outstretched hands and vibrantly golden eyes.





	1. the day the world ended

**Author's Note:**

> ...so i may have been experimenting with second-person point of view

When you turn around, the first thing you see is Merlin with his outstretched hands and vibrantly golden eyes.

 _He used magic!_ your mind screams, _shouts_ as you stand frozen in time. _He’s betrayed you! He used magic!_

He just used it to save your life.

You can’t get past the shock, can’t move, can’t _breathe_ until you notice that there’s more to the scene in front of you, more than just Merlin’s golden eyes—you see the bloodied tip of a broadsword protruding from Merlin’s chest and a stain of red—dark red, almost _black_ —beginning to bloom on his tunic.

“Oh,” Merlin gasps, almost as though in surprise. His eyes never leave yours, not even once the pain registers, twisting his lips into a grimace, not until he’s kicked in the back and his broken body slides off the blade, crumples to the ground beneath your feet—

—and your blood finally starts coursing through your veins, your muscles finally engage, and then you’re walking, _running_ , your own sword poised to kill the man who dared to attack the most precious person in your life.

Anger rushes through your body like a riptide, overwhelming, all-consuming, directed at a _beast_ of a man who will not live to see another sunrise. He doesn’t see you coming—or maybe he does; you care not for the expression on his face or his reaction to your approach. You comprehend nothing besides the pulsing at the side of his exposed throat, the unguarded thighs, the lack of a pauldron and proper chainmail that would prevent you from slicing your sword through his arm like a knife through butter.

He goes down screaming, bleeding, moaning and pleading, but you spare him not so much as a second thought, not with Merlin behind you, dying _dead_ and oh gods, he can’t be dead, he _can’t—_

—he’s _alive_ , his pulse weak and thready beneath the tips of your fingers but it’s there, it’s not gone yet. He groans when you turn him onto his stomach, his breath hitches in pain when you press his neckerchief to the wound (you don’t even recall tearing it from his neck), but he’s alive, he’s blessedly alive, and you don’t care about the magic anymore, not really, not when Merlin is slowly bleeding out in front of you and this might be the last time you ever see him, talk to him, and, and, and…

“I love you!” you blurt out, tears obscuring your vision. “Merlin. Merlin, _please_. You can’t leave me! I love you, do you hear me?!”

His eyes are on yours again, looking at them, looking _through_ them, and then he opens his mouth, tries to say something, but all that comes up is a large splatter of blood.

You’re crying now, sobbing in your grief. _Let the world see,_  you think. _Let them see how much this man means to you, how precious he is, how wonderful, how loyal and true. Let them see how much he gave up to save the life of his king_.

“You can’t leave me,” you whisper into his ear, voice rough and breaking, shattering into pieces so small that there is not a chance you will be able to put it back together.

“A—A’thr,” Merlin groans. He lifts his hand, tries to raise it to your face, but his strength is failing, bleeding out of him along with his life. You catch his hand in yours, grip it so tight that it hurts you, it must hurt him, but he’s past that now, far past that point. He smiles at you, tries to force his lips to curl. They’re pale, so pale, interspersed with flecks of bright red, but it’s there, it’s _something_ , and you hold onto it, hold onto this last memory you will have of him, hold onto his last smile.

His lips move as he tries to speak, but he makes not a sound anymore. He can’t cough anymore, manages no more than half a shaky exhale, and then his hand goes limp in yours, his eyes grow dull, and he’s gone.

_He’s_ _gone_ and you’re left shouting your grief into the void he’s left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll fix this i promise


	2. and the day your life began

Your heart starts beating again when he opens his eyes. It’s been days since the battle, days since he was run through with a blade, and you’re not sure how he’s alive but you honestly don’t care.

He’s back. The gods—yours or his, _it_ _doesn’t matter_ —they gave him back to you. He’s here with you and _he’s breathing again_.

Merlin blinks up at the canopy once, twice, before turning his head in your direction.

“Arthur?” he asks, your name turning into a jumbled mess on his lips. The sound of it makes you smile nonetheless. You squeeze Merlin’s hand in affirmation, then reach for the cup of water that’s sitting on the bedside table.

You move to the bed and ease one arm under Merlin’s head to help him sit up, at least a little. Merlin, to his credit, tries to take the cup from you when it nears his mouth, but his hands shake too much and he ends up spilling half the contents before you manage to steady him.

“I thought I’d lost you,” you mumble, half hoping he won’t hear, half hoping he will. Merlin determinedly avoids meeting your gaze and drinks his water in short, small sips. When he’s done, you ease him back onto the bed, then grab a cloth to wipe off the droplets that managed to make their way down his chin. Through it all, he says nary a word.

“Merlin?” you ask, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. “Merlin, look at me.”

He refuses. He turns his head to the other side, opting to look at the wall rather than your face, and all you can think is that your heart started beating too soon. You try to reach for his hand again, but he flinches away from your touch and you’re left sitting on the bed, floundering, not knowing what to say.

In the end, it turns out that one word—one word you use all too rarely in regards to him—is enough.

“ _Please_.”

Merlin reluctantly turns his head back in your direction. His eyes are wet with tears and his gaze lands somewhere on your collar rather than your face, but that’s fine because at least now you’ve got his attention.

“Why won’t you look at me?” you ask. It’s the first thing that comes to mind, the only thing you care about now that Merlin is awake, and you’ve never been one to mince your words.

Merlin nervously licks his lips, but finally opens his mouth to speak.

“I’m ashamed,” he says, cheeks coloring.

“Of what?” You’re bewildered, shaken, uncomprehending, because what could Merlin _possibly_ be _ashamed_ of?

“I—The magic,” Merlin murmurs. “You know about it now. You know that I lied to you.”

“ _Merlin_ ,” you say, voice soft and consoling. He interrupts you before you can say anything else.

“I-I’m sorry. I know I be-betrayed your trust. And I lied to you; I used magic. I’m so sorry.” Merlin stumbles over his words, becomes more frantic the longer he speaks. “I didn’t want to! I wanted to tell you, so many times! But first I didn’t know you, and then there was your father to think about, and then you became king and denounced magic and it was too late! I swear, I wanted to tell you so many times but I _couldn’t_.” He wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his tunic. “I just. I didn’t want you to hate me,” he whispers. 

“I could never hate you,” you tell him. If anything, you hate yourself for not being someone Merlin could trust with every part of himself. You reach for his hand and this time, he doesn’t pull away from you. “I love you.”

Merlin looks at you, eyes wide and watery. He searches your face, looking for any hint of a lie. When he finds none, he lurches forward and throws himself into your arms. You wrap yourself around him, tuck his head under your chin and hold him as he cries.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he sobs into the fabric of your shirt. “I _hated_ lying to you.”

You run your fingers through his hair and shush him.

“I know you did,” you tell him. “I know you did.”

Merlin’s arms tighten around you and he burrows deeper into your chest. You rub comforting circles into his back as you wait for his tears to dry.

“Did you mean it?” Merlin quietly asks minutes, hours, _days_ later. “When you. When you said you loved me. Did you mean it?”

“I did,” you reply. “I do.”

“Oh.”

It’s odd, feeling nervous. It’s not a feeling you’re used to. You lick your lips and clear your throat, but it doesn’t make saying the next words any easier.

“I understand if you don’t feel the same,” you murmur into Merlin’s hair. “And I don’t want you to feel obligated to say it back. I just… When you were dying in my arms, I realised that I never told you how much you mean to me and I felt so _foolish_. I thought… I don’t know what I thought. Perhaps that if I said it, it would suddenly make everything alright. That you’d stay alive, somehow.” You laugh bitterly. “As I said, it’s foolish.”

“It’s not,” Merlin huffs. “I get it, I do.” He shifts suddenly, easing away from your embrace. You drop your arms into your lap. “I’m like that too, whenever you get hurt—willing to say things I’d never otherwise admit to.” Merlin raises one trembling hand to caress your cheek. “I love you, too. I’ve loved you for so long, I can’t even—” he breaks off with a self-deprecating chuckle. “It’s only ever been you, Arthur. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you.”

“I know.” You’re smiling now, practically grinning because maybe one good thing could still come out of this whole mess.

Merlin’s shoulders slump in relief. His body starts leaning heavily to the side and you grab him before he can fall.

“You have to rest now,” you say, easing him back down onto the bed. Merlin catches your wrist before you can move away.

“Will you still be here when I wake up?” he asks, his words beginning to slur once again.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You lean down and press your lips to his temple. Merlin blinks up at you blearily. “I’ll be right here until you open your eyes.”

“Ar’ight.” Merlin finally lets his eyes slip shut. “I’ll hold you to that.”

You don’t plan to ever leave his side again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see? i fixed it!


End file.
